


Just Ride - Part Five

by Harleythegeekqueen



Series: Just Ride [5]
Category: SPN, Supernatural, spn au - Fandom
Genre: AU, Blood, F/M, Language, Multi, Poly, TW - Gun Violence, TW - Sexual Assault, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 11:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14567931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harleythegeekqueen/pseuds/Harleythegeekqueen
Summary: Y/N is now captured by men who swear loyalty to her father. But even with Sam dead Y/N knows that Dean and John need her and she’s tired of being the victim.





	Just Ride - Part Five

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: SPN Angst Bingo @spnangstbingo // SPN Poly Bingo @spnpolybingo
> 
> Square Filled: Angst Bingo – Motorcycle Gang AU // Poly Bingo – Dean, John, Sam
> 
> A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter. I thought it ended where it needed to and it sets the tone for next time. All errors are my own, gifs/photos found on Google unless noted above, and as always thank you so much for reading!

    Your hands skimmed along the walls of whatever small room the man had thrown you into, but you couldn’t find a way out beside a locked door. You sank back against the wall opposite the door trying to keep it together. It took work but you’d managed to rip off the duct tape that he had tied you up with when he shoved you in the trunk. Your hands were still sticky with Sam’s dried blood and you had to push it from your mind so you didn’t hyperventilate. Whenever you closed your eyes longer than a minute you could only see Sam.

   After what seemed like hours you gave up the notion of escaping. You wrapped your arms around your legs with your head between them. An old Beatles song came to your mind reminding you of Dean. When you were healing he had run his hands through your hair humming it for you. It was a small comfort at the moment.

   As you had begun to drift to sleep the lock clicked allowing the door to swing open wide with bright light blinding you before cold water was splashed over you. Before you could process another man was hurling you to your feet dragging you from the small room. As he drags you down the concrete hallway he pulls at your dress and by the time you reach another door your completely naked fearing whatever is about to happen.

   The door swings open, “There she is!” You flinch recognizing the man who had shoot Sam and kidnapped you, “Hello Princess. It’s certainly a pleasure I’m an old friend of your father’s Alastair. My friend Azazel here made you suitable for our talk. Azazel please tie her up.”

   “My pleasure Alastair,” the man’s hand tightens on your upper arm pulling you toward a large x-shaped structure. At each end of the x, there are cuffs and Azazel presses you face first against the structure making quick work of strapping your wrists and ankles into the leather cuffs. They are almost too tight but you figure that’s the point when Azazel presses against your back and you hear him sniff.

      “Thank you, Azazel. I think that will be all for now. See that we aren’t disturbed,” Alastair calmly dismisses the man but he doesn’t move right away.

      “What a shame,” he remarks pressing a sloppy kiss on your shoulder. “I’m so mad Ketch got a piece of you first. Maybe later.”

      The pressure of him against your back is suddenly gone and the door you entered closes with a click of the lock. You rest your forehead against the wooden structure willing yourself to keep it together. As you take a deep breath you are unprepared for the crack of leather against your upper back. Screams push from your throat as two more strikes with the whip land on your back. The sting fading but it’s the trickle of what could only be blood that makes you scared.

     “My, my little girl. I think you will be my finest masterpiece by the time I’ve finished,” he announced proudly before striking once more. He’s moved to your lower back with the final hit landing just below your ass on your legs. “See your Daddy told me I could do what I wanted to with you. Just leave your beautiful face alone and keep you breathing at the end of the day.”

      “My father is a piece of shit and he has never cared about me. But they do and you killed my Sam. Why did you do it? He was a good man and he loved me,” you sobbed as everything hit you. “Why did you take him from me?”

      “Sam Winchester a good man? He’s a no good white trash biker who runs guns.”

      “He’s still a better man than my father. All of the Winchesters are.”

      Alastair’s hand grasps your hair tightly yanking your head back until his eyes lock with yours, “Your father is a fucking saint. He’s given you the world on a silver platter and all you’ve done is spit in his face and spread your legs for trash.”

      “That fucking saint let his friend rape me and you are torturing me at his command. What kind of man does that to someone he supposedly loves?” you ask and despite the circumstances, you are being completely sincere. What had you ever done to make him hate you like this?

      Alastair releases your head moving back behind you where you couldn’t see him, “Tsk tsk tsk little girl. It’s not torture, it’s reconditioning.” You hear the crack of the whip as he snaps it in the air panic flooding you since you can’t see when he plans to strike, “Now hold still we’re just getting started.”

      At some point either from pain or blood loss, you had blacked out the first time and every time after that. Although time had begun running together it had been over a week or more of endless torture. Alastair would torture you with all manner of instruments and you’d wake up face down naked on the floor in the room that was at this point your prison cell. As he had beaten you Alastair extolled the virtues of your father and your comments that maybe he needed to get a room and suck his dick certainly didn’t help you out in the end. But the other part of you felt you deserved all of this. All the suffering and pain was owed you because if you had just been the quiet complacent little girl your father wanted Sam would be alive. He would be with his family and safe, but because of you, he was dead.

     You managed to push away the destructive thoughts as you sat up wrapping your arms around yourself. Bruises and cuts spread all over your body like tattoos as you exhaled, “Fuck.”

      “Now now Princess. It can’t be all bad,” you turned watching as Azazel moved closer from the corner of the room he was nestled in hiding his presence from you. “I couldn’t help but admire you as you were sleeping. You are so beautiful, Y/N. The Winchesters were damn lucky men.”

      “I still have Dean and John asshole. They will find me and when they do all of you are going to pay for what you’ve done.”

      “I’m afraid they won’t be doing much of anything anymore sweet girl. Your boys are laying right next to your precious Sammy. You’ve been down here a long time and given us ample time to create a little family reunion for the Winchesters. The Hunters are lost without their leaders but at least Mary has her boys back,” your heart throbs in your chest as you struggle not to cry. The thought of them being dead is too much to even bare. They can’t be dead. Not all of them. Not when you were just finding your place among them, but before you fall any further into despair you pause saying his name in your head. Azazel? John had mentioned that name.

       “Oh god,” you pushed yourself up to your feet ignoring the way your skin pulled against the scabs from the whip lashings. “John told me everything about Mary. I know you from his story. You’re the man who killed Mary. Dean was only four and saw everything! You fucking monster!” Your legs carry you to him as your fists pound on his chest. “You killed the love of John’s life and their mother!”

       Azazel only laughs pushing you off him as you fall to the ground. He’s on you in an instant straddling your hips holding your hands down, “Yeah I did kill Mary Winchester. And I loved every minute of it. Poor little Dean, I bet you are so thrilled you got to play caregiver to them.”

      “I’m going to fucking kill you,” you spit as a surge of determination and anger races through your veins.

      “Anyone ever tell you that you are cute when you are mad?” Azazel lets go of your hands allowing his to move to your chest cupping your breast. “I bet you are a screamer.”

      Azazel licks his lips but his so overconfident that he doesn’t realize you have a birds-eye view of the gun in his coat or the knife. He leans down painfully squeezing your nipple when your hand quickly grabs the knife and brings it to his neck. You hold it there as his hands quickly release your breasts and he holds them up in surrender with a smile that only pisses you off even more. He’s talking and you can tell that he thinks he has the upper hand but enough is enough. He was going to rape you just like Ketch. He admitted to killing Mary Winchester and more than likely had killed John and Dean too. With a scream, you buried the knife into the side of his neck using the momentum to push him off.

      He makes a gurgling noise as you pull the knife out and proceed to stab him repeatedly in the chest. He holds up his hands trying to defend himself to no avail the blood loss making him weak and uncoordinated, “You stupid bastard. Were you honestly going to expect me to let another man use my body against me? Did you expect me to let the man who hurt my family live? Fuck you!” His eyes widen just as you stab him in the right eye socket the knife all the way down to the hilt.

    “Bastard,” you mutter standing pulling out the gun with a smile as you find it fully loaded. You search his pockets for keys but find nothing else to help you. To his credit, he did have condoms in his pocket, but he won’t need those in hell. You move around the room finding a small closet with various clothes insides. You pull out a dress ignoring the fact you are covered in blood. You’ll worry about it later but for right now you need to get clothes on and find a way out before Alastair returns.

    It’s easier said than done when you hear the doorknob turn. You move behind the door as it opens Alastair striding into the room, “Oh Azazel are you done?”

    You move forward just as Alastair sees Azazel, “He’s done. Get on your knees dickwad.”

     He lowers to his knees and you circle him standing in front of him pointing the gun at his head, “How are you even walking?”

     “Mostly fucking damned determination to get the fuck out of here. Now answer me this are John and Dean Winchester dead? And don’t fucking lie to me!”

     He snarls but shakes his head, “They were supposed to be but they didn’t make their usual run. They’re alive.”

     Relief flooded your chest as you moved closer making the tip of the gun meet Alastair’s forehead, “That’s more than can be said for Azazel or even you in a minute.”

        “Please show me some mercy! I’m only following your Daddy’s orders.”

        You cock the gun pressing it roughly into his forehead, “I’ll show you the same mercy you showed Sam Winchester.”

        “Please,” the monster sobbed. “I’ll do whatever you want just don’t kill me!”

        You pulled the gun away kneeling to meet his eyes. Your empty hand reaches out caressing his face, “But I’m not going to kill you, Alastair. You are going to crawl back to Lucifer and tell him that I’m coming for him. He can do whatever the hell he wants to me but no one touches my boys or my family. Will you tell him that Alastair?”

        “Yes. I’ll tell him.”

        “I know you will,” you stand up and move past him heading to the door. Alastair is whimpering and you hear him exhale a breath with a chuckle. You turn as he stands up facing, “Oh Alastair?”

       "Yes?“ he asks and you pull the trigger shooting him in the stomach just like he shot your Sammy. He falls crying out in a litany of curse words as you step closer to him holding the gun level with his head as he clutches his stomach. But all you can see is Sam begging you to run, “I changed my mind. I’ll deliver the message personally.”

      “He’ll kill you bitch. He’ll you and all those fucking bikers.”

      “Let him try,” you growl pulling the trigger once more and watching Alastair’s brains splatter the cement.

            You leave the room discovering that you are in your childhood home. Had that room of torture always been just a staircase away? You grab the keys to your Dad’s old mustang and leave easily find the cherry red car. You are becoming more aware of your injuries as you settle into the driver’s seat with a cry. The adrenaline already leaving your system makes everything more painful. Once you reach the end of the driveway you don’t know where to go. One way takes you to the hospital and the other to the Winchesters. As much as you know you need medical attention your heart pulls you to Dean and John.

          You turn the car in the direction of the Winchesters not that it makes a difference. The next stop light you come to you succumb to the pain of your wounds and pass out. Thankfully your foot doesn’t slip and the person behind you pushes the brake on before calling the ambulance. You hear them talking over you but it hurts too much to try to respond. You slip further under and that’s where you stay.


End file.
